


By Appointment Only

by sepulchrecas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Baby Dean, Canonical Character Death, Growing Up, Guardian Angel Castiel, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Reincarnation, Soul Bond, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 02:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3157532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sepulchrecas/pseuds/sepulchrecas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is a Guardian Angel watching over his soul mate, waiting for the next reincarnation of him. In the past his lover has married women, had kids, died young. This time, however, Castiel knows it's different. Each time he's brought back to Earth, a part of his soul turns to rest in darkness. His lover has never been to Hell, and Castiel is not going to let him have the chance to if he can help it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is reposted, and will continue on this account (originally posted [here](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/invictusimpala)). Ratings and tags will change with each chapter. Thank you so much for reading, enjoy :)

30 Years Ago

* * *

Castiel waits. It's a long thing that takes a lot of patience. He spends his time in the trees. Around this time of year the leaves are starting to turn back to their normal shade of green, growing back onto the cold branches, snow melting as buds bloom and the sun appears bright and hot over the horizon.

Castiel is sitting in a cherry blossom tree, however, there are none growing right now because of the frigid winter passing over Lawrence, Kansas.

He believes this is the next spot, the spot where his soul mate will be born again.

It's not the first time this has happened, but it's the first time he'll get to witness the birth. In past years it's always been decades later that he finds his soul mate, when he's graying with a wife, and most recently, graying with a husband on his arm, grand-kids running around their yard, Castiel too late to woo his lover. Standing at the death bed of your soul mate for hundreds of years in a row is not any way Castiel wants to keep living.

Prior to this incarnation of his soul mate, his name had been Michael, a young, talented artist with a passion for life and all of its colors.

This time, however, Castiel fears he will be vastly different. The soul of his lover is damaged from all it has gone through. Each time this man is reincarnated onto Earth, it breaks off a piece of his soul, darkening it further. Castiel is worried, and only when the baby is born will he know the outcome of his mate.

His mother is in labor at the moment, and all Castiel can do is wait.

He swings his legs, lets his wings shake in the wind, feathers tangling and flying away when the strong currents of air become too much. The field he's in is huge, surrounded by a bank of trees that if he decided to fly would cover him and the large shadows behind him.

In this world they are nothing but shadows, and so is he, something talked about in churches with reverence, awe, most times fear. A fairy tale, as his soul mate had put it hundreds of years ago, the first time when Castiel knew no better than to meet the boy at such a young age, when he was merely a child. It hadn't turned out well for either of them.

The screams of his mother Castiel can hear as she begins to push his lover out of her body. Castiel will remember to thank her in this life for it, as he has done in all past lives that she's lived.

Several times, about a century back, she didn't live four or five times in succession no matter what Castiel tried. It made his soul mate angry at the world, a poor boy with nothing in his pockets, and Castiel refused to ruin his life further by taking his arm back then.

In each of those lives he died young, and Castiel suffered all the more.

Between last life and this one it's only been three years, the shortest time in all of history. The longest being five hundred and sixty two years that Castiel had to wait in agony, the vision of his soul mate's eyes sunken into his skull imprinted on the back of his eyelids for the entirety of it.

No matter what happens, his lover never remembers their time together in Heaven. Castiel makes sure to cleanse his soul in Heaven whenever he gets there, steal it from Hell if that's where he has gone. 

His lover has never been to Hell, and Castiel hopes he will never have the chance to, especially now that Castiel is able to find him so quickly, his soul bright from the cleansing he did previous to his birth.

He hears the cries of a newborn, and he flies to the hospital as quickly as he can, undetected by any and all humans.

He stands just inside the room, watching as his lover is cleaned up. He's crying, sobbing as he comes to see the world again in a new light, and Castiel aches to reach out and touch him, heal him, but he can't. Not yet, he tells himself. He has to be patient just a little while longer.

The boy quiets down as soon as Castiel lets him see himself, and his mother passes out as soon as he is in her arms.

His little hands reach up for him, but Castiel pulls himself away. He can't lay his claim yet. It's not the right time. His soul mate is too young, and it would kill him if Castiel so much as breathed too hard on his tiny body. His face is chubby, cheeks round as is his stomach and small, thick fingers. There's a smattering of freckles across his cheeks that Castiel longs to kiss. He'll have to wait to do such things until he's older, the little boy reaching out for him too young, he reminds himself, no matter how loud his soul is calling to Castiel, he'll have to ignore it for at least another decade.

A few stray hairs stick out on his skull, blond like his mother's.

He kicks his legs unhappily when Castiel moves no closer, and his mother stirs.

A nurse comes in to ask what the name of the baby is, and Castiel listens intently.

"Dean Winchester, his name is Dean Winchester," Mary Winchester croaks.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Angels are watching over you, Dean, no need to have nightmares," Mary whispers into his ear as he falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for canonical character death. Thank you so much for reading, enjoy :)

Dean is a wild baby. He's noisy and messy, much like in the past. He never changes much between incarnations, just slightly because of who he was born to or how he grew up, and this time he's growing up well.

John and Mary are happily married, lovely parents to their baby boy. Castiel is glad, although he can see the whole picture while others can't.

Castiel knows John is seeing another woman behind Mary's back, and that he hunts with increasing frequency, and not for the wild ducks he brings home to prove he did. The better Dean gets, and the happier Mary becomes, the more John Winchester leaves the house, the state, sometimes the country entirely to fight an easily beaten Arachne, a stray fae wandering into New York unknowingly.

Castiel keeps as many monsters as he can away from Dean. He's learned from his past mistakes that one slipping through his fingers is enough to make him have to wait another twenty years for his lover.

Dean's mind is constantly working, even in his sleep. Castiel knows humans often wonder about such things, about what babies dream of with their arms flailing and feet sprawling in their sleep.

Dean dreams of the woman above him that smells familiar. He knows she feeds him, bathes him, knows she comes into the room if he cries long and loud enough.

Dean knows who Castiel is, the man he's seen before with the pretty shadows behind him.

Dean doesn't know who John is, he's not around long enough for Dean to store it in his long-term memory.

He screams and cries when John comes home, and Cas likes the smug smile Mary has on her face she hides from her husband.

Very few things he enjoys. Dean does not like it when Mary bathes him in the little tub she bought.

He doesn't like how the water gets cold so fast, but he likes it better when she rinses his hair with the sink hose. His eyes always roll back in his head, eyelids fluttering shut when she does it.

Dean doesn't like bananas or apples, pea or carrot-type foods. He likes the self-made food Mary makes with her blender-like machine. It's meant specifically for baby foods, and he loves anything she gives him as long as it comes from there and not a jar with a label.

Dean is awfully smart, smiling after only a few months, laughing not long after that.

He's crawling by the age of one, and walking six months later. Dean prefers to crawl, scooting his butt across the linoleum, and Mary laughs happily every time, holding out her arms. Dean walks the rest of the way to crash into them with the biggest grin Cas has ever witnessed.

Another year and Dean's running around the house, talking to Mary, and sometimes Castiel.

An imaginary friend, the doctor tells Mary, is who Dean is talking to. It's common, the man tells her, and she's reassured, her own soul becoming bright again.

John and Mary are not a match. John's soul is a dark blue almost black color that occasionally fades into a hunter green when he's happiest, which isn't with Mary. He's dark, the face he's known for a façade, but no one else but Castiel knows this.

Mary's soul is a bright pink color, accented by warm oranges and yellows.

Dean's soul is the same color it's always been, and Castiel still lacks a word to describe it.

Dean likes to sit in the kitchen on the counter while Mary cooks. Sometimes she'll let him sprinkle pre-measured spices into a bowl before dinner. His favorite thing to eat is pie.

Everything else he eats is in moderation. He's more of a grazer than a meal-eater, but pie, Castiel knows, he can eat for days on end without getting sick of it.

Castiel likes the round of Dean's stomach after a good meal. They'll lay back in the grass outside the house together and point at clouds, name their shapes.

Dean will put his hands on his rounded belly and fall to sleep with his head resting on Castiel's shoulder.

Mary comes to get him, picking him up under the arms, carrying him to his room upstairs.

Dean's three when he starts talking in full sentences. He learns so quickly it's amazing. He's always been quick to pick things up, but this time it's especially fast.

He points out letters and numbers, naming them correctly every time.

Even though it's not Castiel's turn to raise him, he's still proud of the improvement Dean has made.

He's coming up well, Castiel thinks, and he hopes it stays on that track for the rest of his life.

When Dean's a little over three, eight months so, Mary becomes pregnant again, this time with another baby boy.

His soul is so bright it's almost blinding. Castiel supposes that he's just become so accustomed to Dean's brightness that he's been able to overlook it. Dean is, in actuality, brighter than his younger brother when Castiel focuses on them.

Mary experiences horrible pains in her third trimester, and if it weren't for the hand Castiel lays over her head, the infusion of his grace with her soul, she would have lost Sam, birthed two months later.

Born Samuel Winchester, or Sammy as Dean immediately coins him, he cries for hours on end. He keeps Mary up, and the labor was intense enough.

Castiel has checked Sam over three or four times and there's nothing wrong. As soon as Dean touches him, however, he quiets, making cooing noises until he falls to sleep.

Dean beams, smiling up at Mary who smiles weakly back. She passes out after that until a nurse comes in to check up on her.

Dean stays in the room the entire time, playing on her phone, a game called 'Tetris', and he swings his legs as he moves his little thumb back and forth across the pad on the phone. Castiel doesn't understand it, but Dean obviously does if how fast his fingers are clicking buttons is anything to go by.

Sam's been taken out of the room, and Dean keeps asking the doctors and nurses when he's going to be able to see his little brother again.

John comes into the room not an hour later looking frazzled, a line of blood still trickling down from his hairline, a cut there. Castiel doesn't heal it.

"Mary," he breathes, holding her in his arms, but the love isn't genuine. "Where's the baby?"

"His name is Sam," she says, and he kisses her on the lips. Dean makes an unhappy noise, and Castiel and him share a secret laugh.

"How are you? Are you doing alright?" John asks her, and she nods, grinning up at him, the love on her face plain as day, blind and naïve, but never stupid or dumb.

"Yes, I'm alright. How was work?" John clears his throat, ears turning red as they always do when he's about to lie.

"Good, I got a little beat up, but I always do. How's Sam? How's my boy?" John beams at Dean, and Dean hesitates for only a second before he runs into John's arms, hugging him right around the neck.

"Daddy," Dean squeals as John flips him upside down. The room erupts into giggles as John tickles Dean. John sets Dean back down, righting himself when another nurse walks in.

Castiel's glad Mary isn't looking so she doesn't see her husband blatantly checking out the nurse's breasts, her cleavage seen as her shirt is unbuttoned a few. Castiel doesn't do it much, but he digs through her memories, seeing her and a 'sexy' doctor kissing in a closet.

Castiel pulls himself from her mind and sets himself back in his own.

Dean's looking at his father with disdain, then he looks at the nurse with pity.

It's odd for such a young child to show that much emotion besides happiness and confusion, but somehow Dean has done it. Castiel smiles at him, and his face softens.

"Dean, why don't you go with daddy to go get something to eat and then you can see Sam when you get back."

At the promise of seeing his brother, Dean takes John's hand in his and walks quietly outside to the impala he loves so much.

He's only seen the car a handful of times since John's gone more often than not, but he talks about it all the time. He has little figurines of the old car to play with when he's bored. As it starts to rust in the places only Dean can see, Castiel repairs it little by little so John won't notice, but his soul mate will.

Dean's hands run over the new leather. It's the same shade, worn in like John remembers it being, but the large blood stain is gone and so is the mold from the old jam Dean left on it when he was younger.

Dean's little fingers pick at the glue in the cracks of the leather, still fresh from the shop, and he grins at it.

Castiel flies behind them, but hangs just out of sight, of both all humans like usual, but this time away from Dean as well.

He needs to give Dean his space, time to grow without his own interference. That night Castiel kisses Dean on the forehead after brushing the hair out of his eyes.

"Angels are watching over you, Dean, no need to have nightmares," she whispers into his ear as he falls asleep.

Of course it's the one night that Castiel isn't watching them that a demon kills Mary.

Castiel knows their family will never be the same, and it's all his fault for thinking Dean didn't need him any longer.

Castiel cries that night for the first time in a long while, since his lover last died at least. His saves his tears for those times and those times only, although this is a special occasion, never to have happened before, so he thinks it's easily excusable.

The tree outside of Dean's house is burnt to the ground, the last remains of it irreparable, and Castiel struggles to come to terms with it.

He picks up boards, tries to fix the mess he created, but it's fruitless.

It's dark out now, and the Winchester's have long since taken off down the road, what things that survived the fire in the back of the trunk that Castiel will have to help clear out, the ash sticking to the interior almost permanently.

He flies to the motel John's driven them to, two whole states away, and it's already morning, but they sleep heavily despite the sunshine.

Castiel steals the nightmares from Dean's mind, fills that empty space with a peaceful slumber, and when Dean's worry about Sammy becomes too much, Castiel fills the babies thoughts with the smell of their mother, and he calms down almost instantly.

When Dean wraps his arms around the babe's stomach, he settles down to sleep, totally motionless except for the rise and fall of his chest as he dreams.

Dean's belly is still swollen from the pie Mary made the night before, and Castiel puts one on the table in the little kitchenette for them to eat tomorrow.

Castiel sighs, looks around once more. Tomorrow will be better, he tells himself, even though he's going to have to leave Dean's life until he's older, tend to Heaven in the mean time no matter what happens. After this he knows Dean is going to need space. Castiel has done enough damage as it is.

His chest hurts with a pain that isn't real, and he tries to force it away but it keeps coming back like a wave kissing the shore, except this is burn that isn't satisfying to look at or feel.

Once more, he kisses Dean on the forehead lightly, a ghost of a touch, and he disappears without another sound.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](http://www.invictus-impala.tumblr.com)   
>  [My Other Ao3](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/invictusimpala)


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